Voices of D6
by Pollardinator
Summary: The sequel to Silence in D6. As the sole survivor of the hell that was D6, it is up to former Russian Army Major Josef Videnski to lead the expedition to reclaim the lost bunker but,even with the wealth of the old world at his feet,the veteran soldier finds new challenges and dangers in the dangerous world of the Moscow Metro. SPOILERS for Silence in D6 and Metro 2033/Last Light
1. 12th Febuary 2033

12th February 2033

Today was the day. The day when we wiped out the menace of the Dark Ones once and for all. Not since I left the plague ridden remains of D6 for the first time have I felt so at ease, not even when my beloved Anna was born did I feel this way.

For once in my life, as I sit looking out over the ruins of Moscow from the crumbling Ostankino Tower, two dead demons either side of me, one filled with Kalash rounds, the other's skull pierced by my machete, I actually feel as if I have achieved something in my life. Not to say my marriage to Katerina, my daughter's birth or even escaping D6 weren't big but this, saving humanity, that's something.

A few floors up, my young companion Artyom sits alone, lost in his thoughts. Theres no rush. The missile strike scared off the remaining demons, which soared away in one roaring swarm moments after the rockets flew past. Beyond calling down to make sure I survived the demon attack, which I did of course, beyond a few bruises and a twisted ankle, the boy has been silent. I guess he saw something while he was up there but, whatever it was, it doesn't matter. We finished the mission. We saved humanity.

What else is there to worry about?


	2. 13th Febuary 2033

13th February 2013

It took the best half of a day to make it back down that godforsaken tower, mainly because a few of the braver demons tried to get back to their roosts. I wasted almost twenty of my precious Volt Driver rounds trying to kill one of the bastards before Artyom put a knife through its eye from twenty metres away.

He's a good kid that one and I still can't believe this boy who stumbled into our organisation only a few days ago is soon to be…actually scratch that, is a Ranger now. I see a bit of myself in him, as I was twenty years ago, stumbling into a new and frightening world that seemed so big and dangerous.

And yet he has something I didn't twenty years ago, besides an ability to stay quiet and pensive when I would probably have ranted into my battered journal for hours, and that's wisdom beyond his years. I could tell as soon as I set eyes on him that there was something special about him. It wasn't by his clothes, which were battered and torn from both mutant and human attack, or his size, which was scrawny to say the least, but the man's eyes. They looked more like those of a seasoned veteran than a young man, with the look of one who has seen enough bloodshed to last a lifetime, yet has come out of it with his life, and sanity, intact.

Last time I saw someone with eyes like that was one of my old squad mates as he rushed toward the biomass infected form of our former commander, with a machete in hand.

It was only when we reached the bottom of the tower as it grew dark that Artyom spoke.

"We should bury them." He said simply as we walked across the ash strewn rubble.

I didn't even need to look where the boy was pointing to know who he was talking about.

My rangers.

Five of them, all good men, who I would soon have the unenviable task of telling their families about.

It took another hour for us to dig their graves, after taking any bullets or supplies from them, and a quick ceremony, in which I placed a single military grade round on top of each man, all buried with their weapons like the great warriors of old.

It was only when we heard the sound of demons on the horizon that we moved, after about five minutes of silent contemplation, back toward the surface entrance we had used to get here.

From where we are now, in a small service corridor just off one of the main tunnels back to Polis, it's another day's walk to get home. There was no way we could cover the distance quick enough to outrun any of the mutant packs that still, despite my men's best efforts, roam these tunnels. Artyom is asleep at the moment and I have first watch. The boy deserves some sleep after the ordeal we had to put hi m through to save us but now, as I sit writing this down, listening to the rumble of a railcar in a distant tunnel, my thoughts turn back to D6.

It has been twenty years since I first left it, and only a day since I left it again. And yet, although both times I managed to escape unharmed, I still have unfinished business there. I owe it to all those who perished there needlessly. Men like Vasily and Delov, Talos and Dakker, even that deranged fool Vlasov who tried to kill us, all of them will have died in vain if I don't make an effort to take the Order down there in force to cleanse the monsters that overran it all those years ago.


	3. 14th Febuary 2033

14th February 2033

It was a strange feeling getting back to Polis. In a way it was the feeling of returning home, back to my family, both biological and the new one that was my rangers. For Artyom it was different, his last visit had literally taken all of five minutes and now, as we walked through the thick iron gates and past the concrete bunkers and machine gun nests that guarded the station, I could see his youthful eyes still filled with wonder, despite the horrors he must have been through to get here.

For me though it was a more melancholy one, despite the cheers and applause the men at the gate and the people on the platforms as we reached the main atrium gave to our return. We had succeeded yes, but at the cost of five good men's lives, and of course that of an entire race. Still I am unsure of whether what we did was right, whether we should have greeted the Dark Ones as we did with fire and sword, or maybe it would have been better to meet with them and communicate, instead of repeating the same 'negotiations' I watched the whole world descend into twenty years ago. But it wasn't my decision to make; the one who was responsible for this turn of events was Artyom and him alone. I only helped.

When we reached the main station we were greeted by what felt like the entire population of Polis, the cheering forms of my Rangers, women clapping and shrieking our names whilst children looked on with wide eyes filled with excitement. I guess our secret mission wasn't so secret after all.

I left Artyom to it then, let him take the cheers and gifts. I had more urgent business to attend to as I entered the main conference room, after spending only minutes in the medical centre getting checked over.

The entire Polis Council was there, the other head rangers and the so called 'brahmin' elders, made up of prominent pre-war scientists and government officials.

The first to speak as I sat down was Doctor Braslav, a former lecturer at the Moscow State University, the small bald man who many referred to as 'the hobbit' behind his back.

"Colonel Miller I must first say congratulations for the success of your mission."

As he said this the whole council nodded and Captain Krasnov, the chief of the perimeter defences, spoke up.

"And of course the rest of the Order agrees wholeheartedly with what you said over the radio whilst in that bunker. Artyom is definite Ranger material."

I felt a slight smile cross my face as he said that. It was exactly what the boy deserved for his actions. But then the doctor spoke again, and my face darkened.

"Now we come to the other issue of the day my friends. We must speak of D6."

At that word the tension in the room became much more on edge, and I felt a small voice in the back of my head.

'Don't tell them.' It said. 'Don't tell them'

I had told no one where I had come from when I had first entered the refugee camp that had eventually become Polis station, and no one had ever asked, not when I had trained up the first rangers, not when the first mutants had crawled in from the hell of the surface, not even when ghost stories emerged of an entire station down in the depths of the metro lost to a plague of luminescent green globes. Not even Katerina knew of the horrors I had seen whilst in the secret bunker D6 during and after the war, and how I had crawled out of there, alone and terrified, escaping the plague of insanity that had claimed that abyss. For a brief second I felt my hand go to my chest, where, underneath layers of scavenged body armour and thick fabric, my original diary sat above my heart, forever to remain secret until my deathbed.

"We need to secure that place, no matter the cost…" one of the other ranger captains said, and then asked me. "What is the situation for the squad you sent in sir?"

"All present and accounted for. I made sure they readied themselves until a relief unit could be sent so they're barricaded in the main command centre and they said they'll be fine there for the moment."

"So what does this 'D6' offer then?" Krasnov asked me with a raised eyebrow.

"D6 is a…wonder of the old world." I said finally, biting back the words I would really like to say. "And yet it won't be easy. We encountered a nest of mutants in the lower levels."

One of the ranger captains, Captain Melnov, snorted derisively at that.

"Some mutants? That's it? We can deal with some nosalises any day of the week. I've seen every mutant this hell has to offer"

"No." I said simply. "Not like these ones you haven't…"

* * *

The meeting continued for a while longer, mainly talk of the logistics of getting a hundred man task force, made up of both rangers and Polis soldiers, to D6 along with all the supplies and weaponry we would need.

As soon as we finished up I was out of the conferences room and away, walking down the ornate corridor through the bustling crowds.

I stopped when I heard a familiar voice calling out for me.

"Where the fuck have you been you asshole!" it screeched and I knew of only one person who had the balls to actually say that without getting their face caved in.

Anna.

She enveloped me in a crushing hug after she ran towards me, effortlessly pushing past burly rangers and Polis guards alike. Her civilian clothes looked alien on her; I was so used to seeing her decked out in her Ranger trainee gear. The day when she joins the order I will be so proud.

At the moment however she was pissed.

"Why didn't you tell us what you were doing? Mama and I were so worried; she practically had a fit when Krasnov told her you had gone out on a crazy mission to some godforsaken abandoned bunker!"

"Of course…" I said to her, and she seemed to calm down slightly. "But it was urgent. Ask the hero of the hour Artyom if you want to…"

She snorted derisively as she released me from her embrace.

"Artyom? Is that the so called 'hero of the Metro'? He just looked like a frightened little rabbit when I saw him…"

I felt myself laughing slightly as I put my arm around her.

"Now let's see how your mama's doing…"

When I came to our medium sized room near the centre of the station, I supressed a small gasp of surprise as I saw Katerina, my one and only, who I had 'officially' married twenty years ago under the lights of Polis station with the entire station and the Order watching, with a grinning priest we had rescued from mutants a few days beforehand. Of course we were already 'legally' married by then ,but that had been in a dingy registry office with a rat faced registrar puffing away on a foul smelling joint of something the entire time. She hadn't changed a bit since I saw her all those years ago after I staggered into Polis from the ruins of D6, and, except for a slight greying of her long brown hair at the temples, was exactly the same, whilst I now looked a lot older than my forty five years would suggest.

As soon as I entered the room she flung herself into my arms. She always worried when I left for missions but, as always, she's the boss of our marriage so was the first to speak.

"Did it work?" she said simply as she looked up at me and I only nodded.

"I'll give you two some space…" Anna said with a grin as she backed out of the room.

"Oh Anna!" I called after her. "Go and rescue Artyom from his new fan club. Take him down the firing range and see how he measures up to the best shot in Polis!"

I heard her curse halfway down the corridor.

"Stupid little rabbit!"

I'm sure those two will get on fine.


	4. 15th Febuary 2033

15th February 2033

The train to D6 clatters underneath me as I write this. For the past few hours we have been making our way through empty tunnels and deserted stations in this armoured monstrosity, the only glimpses of the outside world through gun slits and tiny gashes in the sides where a lucky nosalises must have tried to get through.

The train itself is one of the old Metro ones, sheathed in armour plating scavenged from a T-90 battle tank some lucky stalkers found out near Sparta base. I remember the mission we undertook to bring back these hunks of metal, having to repair some ancient and frozen delivery vans to cart back the metal after our men cut if off with heavy duty construction gear, all the while me and my men watching the ruined buildings around us for demons and watchers. We almost lost the entire squad to a pack of demons before we managed to get the last of that godforsaken armour plating back to Polis and, to be honest, I don't know if it was worth it. We had only had it in our workshops for a few days before some of our engineers turned out to be fascist spies and by the time we found out they had already sold half the armour to the Reich for the panzer tanks.

Still though I'm glad that old Anastasia is our ride to D6. An hour ago a horde of nosalises came at us from above and if it hadn't been for this armoured beast, and the boys on the flamethrowers and heavy machine guns, our little D6 expedition would have ended in a bloodbath before we even reached the gates.

I've only just finished speaking to Artyom before I managed to write off this little piece. The poor boy actually looked scared at the prospect of going back to that bunker.

"Are you sure it's necessary?" he said, a slight twinge of fear in his normally calm and level headed voice.

I nodded in what I hoped was a reassuring manner.

"Look this time we have a hundred others with us, not just the four smartarses that were my old squad. As for the biomass…"

"We'll destroy it." Artyom said simply, a defiant look in his eye.

I didn't have the heart to tell him what happened last time I saw people try to fight the biomass. The screams of the faces along it side as it crawled down that corridor like something out of a Lovecraftian horror, and the cries as men around me were torn apart or absorbed into it are sounds I will never forget, however long I live. I couldn't tell him how our guns proved worthless and our courage futile in the face of that nightmare.

And yet, just maybe, this time will be different. I noticed when we went into the depths of the bunker, that the biomass seemed less powerful than when I witnessed its horrific power all those years ago. Weaker even. The fact that me and Artyom, with nothing but some old AK 2012s and a lot of balls, were able to get so close to the creature and survive may go to how that this monster is weaker now than it was. The old foe that shrugged off RPGs and grenades like nothing may have degenerated somewhat since the bunker was abandoned.

I'm not going to say it for sure but, now that I think about it, maybe we can actually do this thing.

Maybe we can score a victory for humanity.


End file.
